Thursday, August 14, 2008

Now that I've tackled the yoyo dieting monster and am on a firm and unwavering journey to my perfect weight, I've come to the conclusion that I need to start being more active to kick start my metabolism into high gear.

I've written about this in my "wishful thinking" days when I was trying to force myself into doing something by writing about it. If I wrote a column about going for a walk every day, I'd have to do it, right? (This is where the hysterical laugh track kicks in, folks.)

Well, it didn't work. I think I went for two walks and then decided to put it off for some reason that seemed good at the time: 1. I'd cut my toenails too short, putting me much too off-balance for walking; 2. I'd eaten salmon for supper and everyone knows it's a scientific fact that people who go for walks after eating salmon have a much higher ratio of dying in their sleep; 3. I didn't want to overexert myself after scarfing down 10,000 calories worth of treats from the bakery. And haven't you heard that walking on a full stomach causes endangered pandas to become constipated? You wouldn't want that on your conscience, now, would you?

I'm making a concerted effort to move more. After getting absurdly high estimates for clearing out the overgrown brush and trees in my back yard, I borrowed some tools and decided to do it myself. Since there was no reason that I couldn't do it myself, I did! (Being faced with highway robbery was a motivating factor, too!)

It took just under two hours to complete the job, minus the carting away. My back yard has never looked so good and I was proud of my accomplishment. I'm not a person who traditionally enjoys yard work, but I did feel a real sense of accomplishment after the task. There's nothing quite so energizing as giving a man a saw and a back yard full of overgrown trees. I felt like I'd regained total control of my environment!

I was half expecting Helen Reddy to show up on my doorstep singing, "I am woman, hear me roar," which would have probably been appropriate had I been female.

I'm also thinking of getting a dog. Although my two cats already drove a third out of the house, another dog wouldn't cause the cats' territorial urges to spring up, I hope, and they would grow to accept a dog. Taking a cat for a walk is usually not possible, although it's done. A dog would be a great motivator for getting out for walks! I'm looking at a Coton de Tuléar rescue right now. (If you're not sure what a Coton de Tuléar looks like, check out my blog.) They're small, hypoallergenic, love to walk, and their personalities even lend themselves to working as therapy dogs.

I just hope that if I decide that I have a place for dog in my life that the two cats don't gang up on the poor thing, although I'm pretty sure that a Coton would put them in their place pretty quickly! I'm an animal lover, but I don't want to disturb what is a perfect pet situation right now just for the sake of me going out for walks. I can walk on my own, of course, but having a canine along would be more fun.

Luckily, as I've aged, I've rid myself of many of those old exercise fears, even though I need to put this newfound maturity and bravery into practice.

One of the most negative impressions ever placed in my brain happened when I was a kid and trying to lose weight. At the urging of my father, I decided to take up jogging. I barely made it around the block when I heard some neighbour call out, "Fatty trying to lose weight?"

Needless to say, I stopped exercising. Several decades later, though, as a grown adult who's determined to be in my goal weight range, I'd love to meet that person again. The result of that exchange would be much different today.

"Fatty trying to lose weight?"

"Yup! Got something to say about that, buster? Is there some sort of idiotic know-it-all wisdom you'd like to bestow upon me in between picking your teeth with the flap of that matchbook, watching Jerry Springer reruns and getting ready to go out on a hot date with your own sister? And. . . oh. . . by the way, those teeth you're missing? They're embedded in my knuckles. Here you go! You can have them back. They were weighing me down anyway."

The bottom line is that I'm slowly coming to the acceptance that exercise is pretty much a mandatory aspect of ongoing permanent weight management, especially for those of us who have chosen -- for whatever reason -- not to incorporate it into our lives before. At one time, I was able to drop weight like crazy. I still lose weight relatively easily, but I desperately need to increase my metabolism so that it comes off faster.

Of course, I always knew that, but now that I'm bound and determined to fit into that bikini and have 14 months of successful weight loss behind me -- and more ahead! -- getting out and moving is essential. And considering the sense of accomplishment with my yard work over the weekend, it can also be joyful. Hmm. . . now, what about that dog?

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PS to blog readers: I decided not to get a dog. :(________________________

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About Me

Writer, columnist and communications consultant. Author of "Hump Day" - a weekly humour/general interest column, and Social Media Matters, a column dealing with social media. Member of the Professional Writers Association of Canada (PWAC), National Society of Newspaper Columnists, Canadian Association of Journalists.